Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure yet. If Cowan’s convinced Rodrick’s the guy then we might be fucked. But no matter what happens, I’m not going to let Cowan abandon Rodrick when this is all over.”
“Really?”
“Don’t be shocked, it’s almost insulting.” He stands up and walks to the elevators. “If Cowan actually pays Rodrick then the poor asshole’s probably going to be dead in a week if nobody keeps an eye out for him. When this is over, we’ll drive him to a rehab clinic ourselves and lock him in if that’s what it takes. They can drown him in methadone until he dries out.”
“You’re serious.”
“I’m very serious. You might think I’m being a little too cavalier about drug use right now, but I promise, I have experience with this sort of thing. There’s nothing we can do for Rodrick right now except keep him alive and safe and make sure he doesn’t overdose.”
I give him a strange look as I join him at elevators. How does he know about this stuff? Who does he know that was addicted to heroin? The elevator dings and the doors slide open, and we step on together. I lean against the mirrored wall and glance at him as he looks up at the ceiling.
“What kind of experience do you have?” I ask in a small voice.
He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you about it some other time.”
I want to ask him again, but I let it drop. We all have our pasts and our secrets, and if Baptist isn’t ready to share then I won’t force him.
My phone dings as we begin our descent. It’s an address from Cowan and a message: Get to work.
Chapter 12
Blair
“He could’ve at least sent us somewhere nice.” I trudge through an empty field and barely manage to step over a massive muddy puddle. “Seriously, what the hell are we doing out here?”
Baptist grunts in response and glowers all over. He’s staring around like he wants to use Superman heat vision to burn the whole place to the ground and frankly, I hope he does it. We drove an hour north into the suburbs only to end up walking through what looks like an abandoned farm. Weeds sprout all over and the woods are beginning to encroach on a field complete with rusty tractors and overgrown weeds. In the distance, a lone house stands at the top of a shallow rise, and it feels like it’s getting further and further away as we head in its general direction.
“I suspect we’re not going anywhere nice for a long while, or at least until Cowan isn’t in control of our lives anymore.” He kicks a rock aside. “At least nobody’s trying to kill us.”
“There’s still time for that.”
He grins and stretches. “Nobody’s shooting and nobody’s doing drugs. I’d say this isn’t so bad. Besides, the fresh air is kind of nice.”
“Speak for yourself.” I make a face as I stomp through some short weeds and get gossamer spiderwebs all over my legs. I brush it off, shivering. “God, I hate camping. Did I ever tell you my dad used to take us camping when we were younger?”
“You don’t talk about your dad much.”
“There’s not much to say.” I smile grimly as a dozen memories sift through my mind, none of them good. “When I was like twelve and Max was still little, my dad went on this crazy nature kick. He was obsessed with hiking and biking and camping and fishing. He said the modern world is too soft and we needed to harden up.”
“I can guess where this is going.”
I smile ruefully. It certainly doesn’t have a happy ending, that’s for sure. “The trips were awful. He’d bark at us the whole time, snapping whenever we made a simple mistake, and we made a lot of them because we were pampered suburbanites, not farm hands. Mom was pretty checked out by then but at least she was around to try to soften some of his bad moods. I remember this one trip, we hiked really far along this trail then tried to set up camp, but Dad forgot some pieces to the tent and we couldn’t get it up, and he was screaming at us and raging at the woods. He was stomping around kicking bushes and breaking sticks and throwing shit all over. Max kept crying and crying, and Mom tried to calm him down but he called her every nasty thing you can imagine. Eventually, we had to walk back, and it was dark by the time we made it to the car. We didn’t talk on the drive home.”
He eyes me for a moment, frowning. “That must’ve been hard.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t so bad, but that’s why I hate nature. All thanks to my dad. He had to turn everything into a contest, and if we didn’t live up to his impossible standards then he’d treat us like garbage.”